


April Fools and Dead Clowns

by Katzedecimal



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: April Fools' Day, M/M, Schmoop, a finger slip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cases were always important -- but so was John. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Set in the <i>A Finger Slip</i> universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April Fools and Dead Clowns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pawtal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pawtal/gifts).



The door opened and clicked shut. After a moment, Sherlock looked up to see John slumped against it, head down. He was shaking ever so slightly and Sherlock was immediately concerned. He curbed his enthusiasm and put the kettle on. By the time the tea was ready, John had collapsed in his chair, elbows on his knees, hands covering his face. Silently, Sherlock set the cup in front of him and sat near him on the couch. 

John picked up the cup and sipped. His hands were still trembling slightly. He set the cup down and rubbed his face again. "I hate April Fool's Day."

_Oh right,_ Sherlock thought, and nodded. "Screamers, again?"

John nodded, "And flashing.. flashes, I suppose. And someone thought it would be funny to let off a cracker in the office."

Sherlock nodded. John had a lot of problems with crackers. His therapist was convinced that it was because they reminded John of the mines and artillery fire of the war. She was partly right but wrong about the reason: They reminded John of what he missed. 

He waited until John's shiver had settled and John came to the couch of his own accord, then he wrapped his arm around John and let his lips gently ruffle his partner's sandy hair. He felt John relax against him but waited until he had fully inhaled Sherlock's scent, fully melted into his warmth. When he felt that John was settled back into his reality, he nuzzled John's ear and murmured, "Feel up to a case?"

John perked up immediately, "What's up?"

"Greg called just before you arrived home. They've pulled a clown out of the Thames, no more than twelve hours dead."

"Who kills a clown?"

"That's what Greg wants to know. Interested?"

"Can I grab a bite on the way? I've still got a burrito from yesterday, I can heat it in the microwave, it won't take a tick." John was already on his way to the kitchen. "He called before I came in? Why didn't you tell me then?"

Sherlock shrugged, "It wasn't important." A lie, of course: Cases were always important -- but so was John. 

John knew that too. He gave Sherlock a grateful look then grabbed the hot burrito and wrapped it in kitchen roll. He put his jacket back on then touched Sherlock's wrist lightly. Sherlock paused in pulling on his gloves and looked at John, who leaned up. 

The kiss was utterly tender and communicated gratitude, understanding and the deep love that had developed out of a year of text messages, long before they had physically met. Then they grinned at each other and headed out.


End file.
